


Something Borrowed

by castielrisingabove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Smith AU, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Office AU, Pining, all the pining, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7966390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielrisingabove/pseuds/castielrisingabove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Smith has his life together until the dreamy Castiel Milton arrives at the office. But when their boss, Naomi, institutes a "no relationships" policy, it's up to their co-workers to get the two of them together...before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Borrowed

Dean Smith was pretty much the poster child for a day planner company. He was an executive for a bank and his life, as it stood, unfolded like clockwork. Wake up. Shower. Eat two egg whites for breakfast. Wash dishes. Retrieve salad from fridge. Drive to work (40 minute commute). Work. Lunch. Work. Drive home. Exercise. Dinner. Read. Repeat.

Not a single detail varied. Even Dean’s suits, pristinely tailored, were organized based on the day of the week. A red tie for Monday, black for Tuesday, Purple for Wednesday, Blue for Thursday and green for Friday. It was said that other members of the office learned to rely on Dean’s ties to know the day of the week, that was how strictly he followed his routine.

Everything in Dean’s life was just so. It was  _ always _ just so. Until four months ago, when the office just  _ had _ to hire the most gorgeous man on Earth. Seriously, it should have been against the law for an accountant to look like a male model. He had thick dark hair that constantly looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, a sharp jawline perpetually dotted in stubble and the most striking blue eyes Dean had ever beheld.

Yes, Castiel Milton was, by far, the  _ worst _ best thing to happen to the office.

It was one thing that Castiel made all the women drool. (Well, all the women but Charlie, who would proudly announce she didn’t swing that way.) But it was quite another that he made Dean Smith, the most efficient man in the office, stop dead in his tracks and  _ gape  _ every time Castiel walked by. No, that wouldn’t do at all, which is why Dean did what any reasonable man in his position would do.

He scheduled time to stare.

Discreetly labeled “CT” in his day planner and programmed into his phone to alert him with a short beep, Dean penciled out a window of time (2:20-2:35 pm) to set down his work, peek above his computer monitor and stare across the hall, where the blinds to the break room window had been conveniently rolled up, to watch Castiel take his lunch break. It was the same thing every day, a PB&J, and Castiel had a method to eating it. First he’d carefully peel the crusts off, setting them aside before pinching bite sized portions off of the remainder of the sandwich. He’d pop them into his mouth one by one, finishing off the main sandwich before eating the leftover crust.

Some days, Castiel multitasked while he ate, reading books, working on crossword puzzles in between bites or even engaging in the occasional small talk. The latter always made Dean red with jealousy and while it didn’t happen often, it just so happened to be right now, Cas chatting with Hannah, a reasonably pretty brunette who also worked in accounting. Dean frowned at his desk, imagining just how well those two must be getting along when--

“You know, you  _ could _ always corner him in the break room yourself.”

Dean cursed, almost spilling his water bottle as he spun around to see Charlie, the resident graphic designer, hovering over his shoulder. He cursed quietly, smoothing out his tie before it could get wrinkled. Charlie smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“C’mon, it’s not that hard of a code to crack. CT? Aka: Castiel Time?” she had a hint of amusement in her voice as she held up his stolen planner. Dean tried to think of some excuse he could give for why she was wrong, why this wasn’t the case, but he was coming up empty. He sighed and Charlie laughed. “So why don’t you do anything? It’s obvious you’re into him.”

“It’s...not on the schedule to do anything,” Dean grabbed the planner, trying to dodge the question.

Charlie swiped the planner back, scribbling something with a bright pink highlighter. “There, fixed it,” she said triumphantly, handing the planner back. Dean glanced down to find a big heart drawn around the current  _ CT _ listing. He rolled his eyes.

“Not gonna happen, Charlie,” he said dismissively, “As far as I know, the guy’s straight.”

“Well,” Charlie replied smugly, folding her arms across the chest like the annoying little sister he never had, “I have it on good authority that he’s not.”

That day, Dean spent the remaining minute and a half of his  _ Castiel Time _ staring at Charlie with his mouth wide open. He only turned away when his phone beeped, alerting him that it was time to resume work. 

“Sure, act like you aren’t mulling it over,” Charlie called out in a sing-song voice as she left to go back to work. Dean could practically  _ see  _ the smile on her face as she left. Still, she wasn’t wrong. He had a lot to think about with this new information.

\----

Castiel Milton hated his job. He’d gone from working as an art teacher in an elementary school to falling back on what he’d assumed was his pointless business degree to work at this office. As an accountant. Damn schools and their damn cutting of anything that wasn’t the STEM fields. If it weren’t for the people here, Castiel didn’t think he would have lasted as long as he did. 

Hannah, who worked in his department, was kind and rather sisterly, which Castiel appreciated. Then there was Gabriel, who was loud and funny and all the things Castiel wasn’t, and Balthazar, who might as well have been James Bond as far as his seduction went. But the person who rose swiftly to the top of Castiel’s list was none other than Dean Smith.

Dean Smith, head of Marketing, was absolutely, utterly stunning. What’s more, he dressed like he knew it, always wearing suits that were perfectly tailored to enhance his impeccable physique. Fridays were Castiel’s favorite days, because Dean always wore a green tie that brought out his eyes. Castiel wasn’t sure if this was on purpose or not, though he always assumed it was worn so Dean could ensure he got laid.

After all, there was no way a guy like Dean  _ wasn’t _ getting all the attention in the world.

Which of course meant the best part of the office was definitely unobtainable. Still, that didn’t stop Castiel from watching Dean from a distance. Or coming early to save a parking spot, just to move his car at the last minute so Dean could park his Impala in a prime location. Or always making sure the breakroom coffee collection was constantly supplied with hazelnut creamer (Dean’s favorite). 

Occasionally, Castiel would allow himself to slip into a daydream where Dean would find out Castiel was saving him a parking spot and, rather than be creeped out or disgusted, he’d be touched and admit that he, too, had been interested in Castiel from a distance, but hadn’t had the courage to ask him out until…

“If I wore a sexy suit to work every day, would you make sure we always had hot chocolate in the breakroom?” Gabriel asked, pointing to the creamers Castiel was smuggling out of his briefcase. “Because I swear, we’re always out of hot chocolate.”

“That’s because you drink two packets at once,” Castiel replied evenly, setting the final creamer onto the stack, “And you’re the  _ only _ person in the office who drinks hot chocolate at all.”

“Hey!” Gabriel was indignant, “Not all of us can drink our coffee  _ misery black _ like you!”

Castiel rolled his eyes, stepping away from the counter to survey his work to ensure the pile of creamers looked neat and tidy, just as it always did. Good. This way Dean would never suspect anyone else was involved. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes at Castiel’s expression. “Typically, the object of your affection is supposed to  _ notice _ that you’re trying to get their attention.”

“Typically,” Castiel retorted as he reached out to straighten a creamer, “The object of your affection isn’t supposed to be straight.”

“Dean-o? Straight?” Gabriel smothered a laugh, “I don’t know what funhouse mirror you’re seeing that guy through, because he is the furthest thing from straight.”

The whole stack of creamers came tumbling down. Castiel bent over to retrieve them when a low voice cut in.

“You, uh, need any help?”

Castiel didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. Because he knew  _ exactly _ who that voice belonged to and it wasn’t Gabriel. It was Dean. To his embarrassment, though, Dean crouched down next to him, slick shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. For a second, Castiel could even feel a puff of warm breath against his neck before Dean reached out to help pick up the creamers.

He ignored Gabriel’s smothered laughter, instead trying to retrieve the creamers as quickly as possible.

“I love this kind of creamer,” Dean said conversationally. 

“Me too,” Castiel lied, the last word coming out as more of a squeak as he and Dean accidentally reached for the same creamer, fingers brushing against each other. His cheeks flamed and he pulled away, clumsily standing to rearrange the creamers.

Dean stood too and Castiel swore a faint pink blush crossed his cheeks. He was far less coordinated than Castiel and his eyes kept flicking over to Castiel nervously. Great. Dean Smith probably thought he was clumsy, or stupid or, worse, trying to pull a move on him.

Castiel didn’t say anything, leaving the pile in disarray for the first time in his life as he fled from the breakroom. What an absolute disaster.

\----

_ What an absolute disaster _ , Dean thought to himself as he made his way to the conference room. The creamers incident had happened a couple of hours ago, but Dean still dwelt on it, replaying the moment over and over again. He’d scared Castiel off. His first, bona fide interaction with the guy and  _ of course _ he came on too strong. Castiel must have seen how flustered he’d gotten after they brushed fingers, must have picked up on Dean’s utterly pathetic longing…

And to add insult to injury, Naomi, their boss, had scheduled a department-wide meeting during the same time Castiel typically took lunch. Which meant Dean would have to spend  _ Castiel Time _ avoiding the guy instead of getting to watch him eat. He hoped nobody had told Castiel about this sort of scheduling. Yet another possible reason why the other man ran out on him.

He ducked his head low as he filed into the conference room, sincerely grateful to see Charlie and Sam Wesson waving him down. If Charlie was the little sister he never had, then Sam was the brother he never had. They had similar interests, they could talk easily  and despite Sam’s absurd height, Dean even swore they looked alike. 

To Dean’s intense relief, the pair were situated far away from Castiel. He ducked his head and nearly ran into someone in his haste to move across the room without being spotted. The last thing Dean wanted was to make eye contact with the guy who now thought he was crazy.

“A little moose told me that you talked to Castiel ahead of schedule,” Charlie said with a grin as Dean sat down between them.

“Did the little moose also tell you how much of a disaster it was?”

There was a muffled “ _ shit” _ from Sam as Charlie’s fist swung out across Dean’s chest to collide solidly with Sam’s arm. “But you two were talking!” Sam whined, “I saw you bend over to help him pick up the coffee creamer.”

“Did you also happen to see him rushing out of there as fast as he could?” Dean shot back, “Happened about two seconds later.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Charlie mused, “Last I heard he was  _ definitely  _ into you…”

Dean was about to reply when Naomi walked in. She wasn’t all that tall, but with her presence was commanding. Her dark hair was always pulled into a tight bun, not one hair out of place, and her high heels seemed to even manage to clack when she walked in carpet. Naomi was one of those people you never, not ever, tried to mess with.

Today her face was pulled into an evident frown, lips tugged into thin lines on her pale face. Everyone quieted as she entered, a collective understanding of just how much trouble they would be in if the chatter continued. She smiled at the silence, though her smile looked forced and mechanical.

“Now, you must be all wondering why I’ve called you in here. It has come to my attention that there has been some... _ blatant _ misuse of power in this office.” She paused, looking around to ensure everyone knew what she was talking about.

Of course everyone knew what she was talking about. Jodi, who worked as chief of security, had recently promoted Bobby, a gruff older gentleman that Dean had grown to appreciate, as second in command. The whole office knew they were dating, and knew the promotion likely came from her bias towards Bobby, but then again, nobody cared. As far as Dean knew, everyone was happy for the two of them.

Except Naomi.

“Rest assured, the perpetrators have been sufficiently punished.” Dean gulped, hoping that neither of them had lost their job, “But,” Naomi continued, “I have decided to instate a new rule. Coming into effect in two weeks, as per department policy, there will be no dating among co-workers.”

“What if they’re already in a relationship?” Charlie piped up.

Naomi swiveled to face Charlie, the frown even more pronounced on her face. “Are you looking for a loophole, Miss Bradbury?”

“Just a clarification.”

Naomi sighed. “If they are already dating by the time the policy is instated, they will have to sign a couple forms promising not to show favoritism. But, as far as I can tell, this will not be a problem, as our only couple has already been addressed.”

“Of course,” Charlie replied. Naomi nodded briskly and continued her meeting, but Dean couldn’t focus on her anymore, not when Charlie’s eyes were lit up like she had something important up her sleeve. She wore the same expression when she pranked Crowley, head of sales, and it only meant bad news for anyone caught in her crossfire.

Dean feared it would be him.

\---

“I’m sure you all know why I gathered you here today!” Charlie said triumphantly. She stood on a box of papers in the storage room in an obvious attempt to make herself the center of attention.

Below her stood Sam, Gabriel, Balthazar and Jo, all looking very confused.

“I  _ thought _ you had some alcohol to smuggle me,” Balthazar muttered, “But the amount of people here seems to suggest I’ve been bamboozled.”

Charlie frowned, tearing a paper from the clipboard and crumpling it up, tossing the paper ball at Balthazar. “No! We’re here because it’s  _ so _ obvious that a certain two oblivious morons need to be pushed together.”

“Naomi and Crowley?” Gabriel piped up.

“Gabriel and the coffee sweetener?” Sam joked, earning a sharp glare from Gabriel.

“No, it’s definitely Charlie and Jo,” Balthazar drawls with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Shut up!” Charlie shouted with a small stamp of her foot. “We all know Naomi and Crowley would make the worst power couple of all time, that Gabriel is definitely cheating on the coffee sweetener with the stash of lollipops we keep for emergency child visits, and, seriously Balthazar? I was gonna ask Jo out after this was all over!”

The room quieted, Jo blushing furiously. 

“Anyway,” Charlie continued, realizing once again that she had control of the room, “The matter at hand is most  _ definitely _ Dean Smith and Castiel Milton whose combined pining could power my air freshener for years.”

“Gonna stop you right there, sweetheart,” Gabriel said, raising up a hand, “I’ve been trying to get dear Cassie laid since we started working together and I’m starting to suspect it simply isn’t possible.”

“And you don’t think Dean’s the guy who could do it?” Sam piped up defensively, “Dean could woo whoever he put his mind to.”

“Ah,” Gabriel slapped a hand to Sam’s shoulder, “But there’s the kicker, isn’t it? How likely is it that your dear pseudo-brother would set his mind to it?”

“About as likely as it is you’ll get laid this weekend,” Sam retorted. Gabriel thought the statement through for a moment, then grinned.

“You gonna help me with that one, tall guy?”

“Stop it!” Charlie shouted, trying to regain control of a room that seemed to be preoccupied with anything but the truly pressing matter of Dean and Castiel ending up together, “This is serious! If we don’t get them together, all of us are going to have to put up with truly pathetic longing for the end of time.”

Silence settled in as it sunk in what Charlie meant. 

“Any ideas?” Jo asked, looking up at Charlie, who broke into a wide grin. 

“I’m glad you asked…”

\----

“A party?” Cas whined. It was Friday afternoon and Castiel had been gearing up to have a quiet night at home. Maybe a documentary, the Discovery Channel was going to air one on bumblebees, and a sampling of the huckleberry tea he’d bought at the farmer’s market. It was going to be, he was sure, the best way to get his mind off of the utterly out of his reach Dean Smith.

Except now, it seemed, his friends had other plans. Gabriel and Balthazar had cornered him on the way to the bathroom (the bathroom! Was there no human decency anymore?) in order to coerce him. “C’mon, Cassie,” Gabriel said, slinging an arm around Castiel’s shoulder  _ despite the fact Castiel was trying to go to the bathroom _ , “You said yourself, you needed something to take your mind off Dean.”

Castiel gritted his teeth. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Nope!” Balthazar said cheerfully, “We  _ really _ need to get those RSVPs together.”

As far as Castiel knew, neither Balthazar nor Gabriel had ever been the type to think ahead. RSVP shouldn’t even be in their vocabulary. But, unfortunately, Castiel was not really in a position to think clearly. Such things were excusable when two co-workers decided the best time to crowd around you was at the urinal in the mens’ room. 

Castiel sighs dramatically. “If I say yes, will you leave me to urinate in peace?”

“Cross my heart,” Balthazar crosses his heart with an expression of poorly masked mischief plastered across his face. Yet another thing Castiel would have been more suspicious of if he didn’t have to pee so badly. 

“Fine,” Cas snaps, “I’ll go.”

“Fantastic, old sport!” Gabriel replied cheerfully with a slap to his back, “We are not letting you back out of this one.”

As they left and Castiel returned to trying to pee, he wondered if he’d just made a terrible mistake.

He had.

This party was not his scene  _ at all _ . It was full of loud music, alcohol and terribly unenjoyable party games. And, to top it all off, Balthazar and Gabriel were gone. If it wasn’t so implausible, Castiel would have said they left the party all together. But that didn’t make sense. Balthazar was never one to walk out until it was two hours past the party was supposed to end, both arms wrapped around different girls. 

Still, he couldn’t find them anywhere. He couldn’t even find anyone else he remotely recognized. Castiel groaned, downing a gulp of cheap alcohol as he mentally prepared himself for the headache that was likely going to develop. As he turned a corner, however, he found himself running smack into none other than--

“Dean?” Castiel almost got a faceful of Dean’s tie, the nice green one he always wore on Fridays, as he collided into Dean’s chest.

“Castiel?” Dean’s green eyes were inquisitive. He was still in his suit, his well-tailored suit, and stood out among the other more casual guests. They both took a jerky step backwards, Castiel accidentally smacking into the wall, sending a framed painting to the floor.

“ _ Shit! _ ” Cas dove to catch the painting, which looked to be an overweight cow being abducted by aliens. He rose, the painting gripped in both hands.

“I didn’t expect you to be here…” Dean said awkwardly, rubbing his arm where he’d slammed into the staircase banister.

“I didn’t expect to be here either,” Cas replied, trying to look anywhere but Dean. Dean, who no doubt had many poor ideas of Cas at this point. “My friends, uh…”

“Dragged you here too?” 

Cas risked a look to see Dean’s face full of sympathy. He nodded. Dean chuckled, a hearty sound that made Cas’ heart soar. “Mine too. Do you even know whose house it is?” 

“Whoever it is,” Cas said, “They have terrible taste in artwork.”

He brandished the painting, causing Dean to laugh even harder. A reluctant smile crept across Cas’ face. He made Dean  _ laugh _ . That was no small feat. And perhaps, if he was lucky, Dean would laugh again. And again…

When the laughter finally died, Dean clapped a hand to Cas’ shoulder. “Well, if neither of us know who threw this party, wanna get out of here?”

“With you?” Cas’ eyes widened and he nearly dropped the painting. He had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting a reverberating  _ yes _ .

“I mean, um…” Dean rubbed his neck, taking a long gulp from his cup. “Yes?”

But before Castiel could answer, Dean was all but being tackled by a large man with a buzzed hair cut.

“Dean Smith!” the man boomed, “What are the odds I’d see  _ you _ here?”

“Victor?” Dean asked.

Castiel glared at this  _ Victor _ , bubbling with grumpy indignation as the two of them began their own conversation. Victor, apparently, had known Dean from high school. When their reunion began lasting longer than a simple catching up ought to, Castiel took his cue.

“Since you now have someone you know here, I’ll leave you to your party,” Cas said brusquely.

Dean whipped around. “Cas, no, I--” he reached out a hand, in what gesture Castiel had no idea, as he struggled with words.

“I’ll see you in the office on Monday,” Cas said quickly, not wanting Dean to see how bothered he was. After all, what claim did he have to Dean Smith? Victor had been his friend since high school while Cas, well, Cas was just a co-worker, a charity case. 

The office charity case who’d been able to make Dean Smith laugh, anyway.

That was the last thing Castiel thought about that night, after the documentary and the tea and the aspirin. As he lay in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, Dean’s laugh seemed to echo off the walls. It was the most wonderful sound in the world.

\---

“Sooo,” Charlie’s singsongy voice interrupted Dean as he was halfway through his morning coffee run. He jumped, the hot liquid dribbling from the cup. Dean winced as he wiped the cup down with a nearby napkin, ignoring Charlie as he reached for his usual hazelnut creamer.

“How was the party?” Charlie asked brightly.

Dean’s face darkened as he splashed the creamer into his coffee, stirring grumpily. He did  _ not _ want to be reminded of the party. After Castiel had run out (of  _ course  _ Castiel was just looking for an escape, of course he didn’t  _ actually _ want to leave the party with Dean) Dean had been left to awkwardly try to explain to Victor why he looked so crestfallen that his random co-worker was leaving. And Victor being Victor, well, it meant they spent the rest of the night getting horribly, quite irresponsibly drunk.

Which was so unlike him.

Charlie frowned, seeing the look on Dean’s face as she reached to fill her own cup of coffee. “That bad?”

“If you call making an ass of myself in front of Castiel ‘that bad’ then yeah,” Dean grunted, taking a swing of the coffee, which was still too hot. Dean spit it out hurriedly, but the resulting splash ended with a large splatter of coffee on his tie. He cursed inwardly. The longer Castiel stayed a vague fixture in his life, the more his perfectly structured lifestyle fell apart. The growing dark stain spreading across his otherwise pristine red tie was proof of that.

“Shit,” Dean muttered.

“Take it off?” Charlie suggested, though she set down her coffee cup and reached for a set of napkins. Dean pushed her away, the last thing he needed was cheap napkin fibers rubbing off onto his expensive tie.

“I don’t know  _ what _ to do,” Dean cried, voice rising, “I’ve got a meeting today, I can’t just go in with no tie!”

“Use mine,” a gravelly voice said from behind.

Dean could feel his heart fly up into his throat as he recognized the voice as none other than Castiel. He must have just arrived, he was still wearing his rumpled trench coat, the one Dean may or may not have had a fantasy or two about, and his typical blue tie. Dean hadn’t ever seen Castiel wear anything but that blue tie.

Before Dean could say anything, Castiel was hastily untying the blue tie (yet  _ another  _ one of Dean’s fantasies). His expression is very serious as he carefully turns to untie Dean’s tie. Dean was frozen in place, praying his face wasn’t betraying him this time as Castiel carefully looped his arms around Dean’s neck to wrap his own tie through the collar. His hand (strong, warm, Dean’s brain supplied helpfully) rested on Dean’s chest as he carefully tied the blue tie around Dean’s neck.   


“I know it’s not your typical Monday color,” Castiel was saying as he patted the blue tie down, “And it’s not  _ nearly _ as expensive, but…”

“It’s perfect,” Dean breathed, staring at the blue tie with wonder.

“Oh?” Castiel clutched Dean’s red tie, staring up at him, “Are you, uh, sure?”

“Yeah...thank you…” Dean whispered.

“That’s good, I, um, I need coffee,” Castiel replied awkwardly, bumping into one of the break room tables as he made his way out the door, Dean’s tie still hanging limply from his hand.

Dean was too shocked by what happened to notice that Castiel’s excuse made entirely no sense, given the coffee machine was right behind him. He watched Castiel wander to his desk, and probably would have kept staring if not for Charlie muttering, “Damn coffee machine does my job better than I can.”

“What?”

Charlie turned pink. “Oh, nothing,” she said hastily, grabbing her own half-filled coffee cup and racing out of the room.

\---

The rest of the day was a blur for Castiel. After making a hasty exit from the break room, he couldn’t risk doing something stupid, he’d taken an obscenely early break to go to the dry cleaner’s.  _ This was Dean’s Monday tie _ , he kept thinking, rubbing his thumb up and down the smooth tail of the red tie,  _ It can’t stain. Dean Smith always wears this tie on Monday. It would throw everything off if this tie was stained. _

Why  _ he _ was the one racing the tie to the dry cleaners at 9:30 AM on a Monday, well, that wasn’t as easily explained away.  _ He’s my coworker _ didn’t seem to really cover it, especially because if had been  _ anyone _ else Castiel knew he never would agree to do something like this, much less decide to do it on his own. And it wasn’t exactly an emergency either.

To his horror, rather than simply saying it was his own tie when he handed it over to the dry cleaning assistant, he’d said it was his  _ boyfriend’s _ . His cheeks were as red as the tie as she swiped his credit card, clearly uninterested in his personal life.

Castiel spent the entire wait, as well as the entire ride back to the office, trying to come up with an explanation for why the tie would be clean. Maybe Balthazar cleaned the whole department’s ties every week? Or it came off with the help of one of Hannah’s wet wipes? Perhaps Dean would believe it was a miracle, an act of God. After all, Castiel would need an act of God to ensure Dean Smith didn’t think he was even more crazy than he’d originally surmised.

He was sure Dean would demand the red tie’s return after his meeting (11:30 AM, not that Castiel asked around the office for such information) but to Castiel’s surprise, that was not the first thing Dean did after leaving his meeting with Naomi. It wasn’t the second thing, either, or the third. In fact, Dean spent the entire day wearing Castiel’s blue tie; Castiel even swore he saw Dean  _ stroking _ the tie once or twice.

“He’s stroking it,” Castiel said to Gabriel, “But he hasn’t looked at me.”

“Maybe he’s looking at you when you’re not looking,” Gabriel shrugged, rummaging lazily through his drawer to withdraw a stick of red liquorice. 

“Why would he be looking at me?”

“Didn’t you say he tried to invite you to leave the party with him?” Gabriel asked, taking a big bite of liquorice.

“Well, yes, but--”

“Seems pretty obvious to me, then.” Gabriel finished off the stick in a second bite, ducking down to grab a second piece of candy. And, despite how many times Castiel tried to get him to say more, Gabriel left his statement at that.

Castiel was left to fidget the remainder of the day away, stealing glances at Dean whenever he felt nobody was paying attention, counting down the minutes until work ended until--

“Hey.”

Castiel looked up from his computer to find two things. One, that the office seemed to have cleared out. Two, that the only other person in the room appeared to be Dean Smith, who was currently standing next to his desk.

“The tie was a lifesaver today, man,” Dean said, “Thanks.”

Still, the blue tie remained tied around his neck. Castiel nodded quietly, staring at the tie before remembering the one on his desk. “I, uh,” Castiel coughed, “Got it cleaned for you.” Hastily he crammed the red tie into Dean’s hand, looking away before he could see Dean’s reaction.

There was only silence. Then--

“I guess you’re a lifesaver in more ways than one. How can I repay you?”

“It’s on me.”

“Seriously, I’m not just gonna let you off the hook,” Dean said, stepping closer, “You saved my bacon today, I’d do just about anything to repay you.”

“Anything?” Castiel peered up at him, his heart beginning to pound. The beginnings of an idea, a very stupid idea, were creeping into his mind.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Dean shrugged awkwardly before flashing his usual charming grin, “As long as it’s not illegal.”

By now, the idea had formed a full on train, picking up speed as it barrelled through Cas’ mind.  _ Dean, who Gabriel said wasn’t straight...Dean, at the party, laughing at Castiel’s bad joke...Dean, inviting him out...Dean, still wearing that tie...Dean, who offered to do anything… _

And before Castiel could think through the possible consequences for this most likely terrible idea, he was acting on the idea, tugging Dean down by the very tie he’d lent him and kissing him smack on the lips.

It was everything Castiel had ever hoped for, Dean’s lips were warm and soft as they crashed against his own. There was a brief  _ oh _ whispered against his lips, but to his surprise, Dean didn’t pull away. No, Dean was tugging on Castiel’s shirt and weaving his fingers through his hair as they clumsily continued kissing, Castiel still in his chair, Dean still standing until finally he pulled away.

“Did you just--?” Dean asked breathlessly.

“And did you--?” Cas breathed back, the two of them staring at each other for what seemed like a lifetime when Dean’s face light up, eyes crinkling in a smile as he threw his head back and let out the most joyful laugh Castiel had ever heard.

“I should borrow your tie more often.”

\----

The whole office liked to take credit for the fact the two of them started dating a week later, right before Naomi’s deadline, much to her dismay. Then again, the whole office, it seemed, like to take credit for every highlight in their relationship, be it the first time they stayed the night (“I locked them out,” Gabriel bragged) to the proposal itself (which, to be fair, Dean had gone out and recruited the entire office. Just in case.)

Regardless, two years later, Dean Smith had nobody to blame but himself as he burned a hole into his fancy necktie. This was a big day; everything from his shoes (polished) to his tuxedo (pressed) looked impeccable. But nerves had left him to neglect the necktie he was ironing for just a moment too long and now the edge had an unfortunate burn.

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked Sam, who gave him a moose-in-the-headlights look. Some best man  _ he _ was. “I can’t just go out there without a necktie!”

“Care to borrow mine?” a gravelly voice rang out and Dean turned on his heel to see Castiel looking absolutely stunning in a tuxedo of his own. In Cas’ hand was the familiar blue tie, the one Dean had borrowed all those years ago. “I, uh...I’d brought it for my  _ something blue _ , but…”

He didn’t wait for Dean to answer, reaching his arms around Dean to start tying the tie. “You’re a lifesaver, Cas,” Dean sighed, beaming as Castiel softly tied the fabric, “How can I ever repay you?”

“You could marry me,” Castiel hummed casually, though he wore a smile across his face, “I hear there’s a ceremony in a few minutes.”

"Don't mind if I do."  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated!


End file.
